


Still Waters Rising in My Mind

by indevan



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Babies, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 04:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14663208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: Things have been difficult lately.  She’s been without Goku before but never permanently.  Never him staying dead.  Leaving her behind





	Still Waters Rising in My Mind

Chi-Chi makes a list.  She’s taken to doing that now in ways she never did before.  Before lists were restricted to grocery items or chores for Gohan.  Now she makes lists for everything to keep her mind off of things.

She’s not doing too well these days, although she’s only thrown up twice today.  The list before her is the one she made this morning while she was reminded that morning sickness doesn’t seem to discriminate between morning and afternoon, something she had forgotten from her pregnancy with Gohan.

She tries to think of this list as rules rather than just words and words and words and words.  Rules for her. No alcohol, which is easy because she never drinks. Same for smoking. No stone fruit, since it’s bad for the baby’s intestines.  She’ll breastfeed again. Worked for Gohan. It’ll sleep on its tummy so it won’t die during the night. Or is it back now? Did it change from before?  She taps her pen on the paper and rubs her temples. The baby won’t sit in the front seat, of course. It’ll be safe. Safer than she was able to keep Gohan and won’t this baby grow up into the healthiest of young men, all because she kept him safe?  Ready to take on the world. To train. To fight. Go to battle. Get blown up out of her life.

Chi-Chi drops the pen.

Things have been difficult lately.  She’s been without Goku before but never permanently.  Never him staying dead. Leaving her behind.

Gohan has nightmares about it.  She can hear him sobbing into his pillow at night, but what can she do?  During the day, he focuses on his studies with renewed fervor. Both of them know he’s getting into them so deeply as a distraction, but she out loud she says that he’s glad at how serious he is.  They’re both pretending.

No one knows about the baby.  At least, she hasn’t told them.  She’s certain they know by now. Five months along and she’s starting to truly show.  Part of her wants someone else to acknowledge it. Wants someone else to make that sad, sad face and say “Oh, Chi-Chi” when they know that Goku left behind a child he’ll never meet.

Why should it be her burden to tell them?

She stares at the list, at her nonsensical rambling, and tears the paper out with the swipe of her hand.  Crumples it and throws it in the bin.

The house is quiet.  Much quieter than before.  Bigger, too, somehow. Impossibly big.  Without Goku’s loud energy--his overwhelming _presence--_ the house feels vacant.  Stale. She keeps it clean and, when she can’t, Gohan does his chores.  They support each other through this. This grief that doesn’t seem to end.

It’s quiet enough that she can hear the scratch of Gohan’s pencil and when he turns a page in his textbook.  He’s gotten quieter. Over the years, he’s opened up more. The influence of Krillin and the others, no doubt, but she’s seen him smile and laugh more.  Now he barely speaks.

Next month is Trunks’s birthday.  Maybe it’ll be good to get out of the house and see everyone.  Maybe they’ll all be too distracted celebrating to make concerned faces or look at her with sad eyes.  Maybe, maybe. She’ll talk to Gohan about it.

\--

“She has to tell us some time.”

Bulma gestures emphatically with her glass of lemonade.  It’s idyllic, sitting in the backyard drinking spiked lemonade with her ex-boyfriend-cum-best-friend.  Trunks is before them, playing in the grass. Currently he’s waving his chubby arms as the last leaves fall from the trees.

“She has to tell us on her own time,” Yamcha says. “It’s her call.”

“At this rate, she’s going to tell us she’s pregnant when the kid is crowning.”

He made the mistake of taking a sip of his drink as she said it and he snorts lemonade onto the table.  Glaring at her, Yamcha sops it up with a napkin.

“It’s hard,” he says, long fingers idly pulling apart the napkin as he speaks. “I mean, do the math.  We all know she got pregnant _right_ before the fight with Cell so imagine how she feels.  Her husband _dies_ and then she finds out she’s pregnant.  Maybe it’s an adjustment.”

Bulma scowls, hating when he’s more logical.  More rational. Better at reading people. _She’s_ supposed to be the genius, isn’t she?

“I guess.”

She flicks her gaze back to her son in time to see him stuff something in his mouth.

“Trunks, you spit that out.”

She rises to her feet, ready to spring into action, but someone beats her to it.  She almost didn’t see him, stalking around the property like some kind of jungle predator, but Vegeta has come up.  He squats in front of Trunks and sticks his finger in his mouth to scoop out whatever he’s shoved in there. It turns out to be an acorn and, without a word, he flings it across the yard.

“Don’t put things in your mouth you can’t chew,” he says gruffly.

He gets to his feet and, as quickly as he appeared, he’s gone back into the house.

“What’s that about?” Yamcha asks.

Bulma shrugs because it’s the only answer she can give.

“He’s been doing that lately.  Like paying attention to Trunks.  Taking care of him. In his own way.”

“Hunh.” Yamcha takes a sip of his drink. “And what’s the deal with you two?”

Weren’t they talking about Chi-Chi?

“What deal?”

He makes that _face_ of his where she knows he reads through whatever bullshit she’d trying to pedal.  Since their final breakup, he’s gotten good at it in ways he never was when they were together.  In many ways, not being romantic brought them _closer._

“Are you together, or…?”

She waves a hand.

“No clue.” She pauses to take a sip and adds, “We’re sleeping together, though.”

“Oh, _that_ I just assumed.”

Bulma kicks him under the table.

“He’s been weird since the battle anyway,” she says. “Like he says all of this crap about not fighting anymore but then he’s still working out every day.  It’s like he thinks if he keeps his body moving at all times, he won’t be distracted by his own thoughts.”

“He tell you that?”

She laughs.

“What do you think?”

Yamcha pats at the wet napkin again.

“Do you want to be together?”

What a question.  She decides to fire back.

“Do you want to be together with Tien?”

His face goes red and he mutters down into the table.  Checkmate.

\--

Chi-Chi’s glad they came.  Gohan seems as happy as he can be, playing with little Trunks who’s been dressed so fashionably that he looks out of an editorial page.  She thinks it’s a far cry from his nappie and cat-eared cap from a few months ago. Right now, she watches Gohan read a board book with him.  Or, rather, Gohan’s trying to read it and Trunks is trying to chew the corners.

She puts her hand on her middle, thinking of the child growing within her.  Thinking of how Gohan will be with them.

It’s just all of them at the party but of course Bulma’s gone all out.  Chi-Chi can’t blame her. If she had the means, she’d do the same for her kid.  Kids. Plural--soon.

“I can’t believe he’s one,” Chi-Chi says to her.

What she thinks is, _I can’t believe it’s been six months since Goku died._  But she can’t let it consume her.  Aren’t there limits on grief? Is she expected to be over it by now?  Getting on with her life as a now single mother?

“Right?” Bulma beams brightly.  Too brightly.

“Can I get you two something to drink?  Wine? Beer?” Yamcha asks.

He’s materialized out of nowhere, and the wattage of his smile is too bright.  Why do they do this? It’s like if they’re nice or smile bright enough, it’ll make her happy.  He’s come bearing a plate of assembled snacks, though, acquired from the buffet table.

“Chi-Chi’ll have mineral water,” Bulma answers for her.

A look passes between the three of them.  Chi-Chi takes a cracker and digs it into the plate Yamcha holds out.

“And not the pâté either,” Bulma says and looks right at her.  Keeps looking.

“Why is that?”

Bulma doesn’t respond.  Chi-Chi stares back at her, feeling her brows lower on their own into a scowl.

_Just say it.  Relieve me of the burden.  Just say the words._

“Because it doesn’t taste good.”

It’s going to be like that, then.  Maybe this is her fault. Maybe she should just say it.  It’s getting more obvious by the day, it seems. This baby is a kicker, too.  What’s everyone going to do? Pretend she’s hiccuping?

Wordlessly, Yamcha slides a slice of cheese onto her cracker.  Chi-Chi doesn’t know what else to do but accept it.

\--

Bulma isn’t sure where Trunks is going, but he’s determined to get there.  He toddles steadily, barely rocking side to side, as he moves forward, back arched and gaze determined.  She should quickly outpace him and scoop him up to deliver him to his cake and all the other guests but, truthfully, she’s curious as to where he’s going.

The fact that following him gets her away from the tense, awkward air between her and Chi-Chi is even better.

The two of them have never been particularly _close._  It’s always been as if Bulma and everyone else were Goku’s friends and Chi-Chi was his wife and never the two shall meet.  She wants to bridge that gap now that he’s gone and now that they’ll both have babies and, therefore, something in common. Before, Bulma never understood her obstinance on not letting Gohan fight but now that she’s seen her own son, even grown, go into battle...she can kind of see her point.  She follows Trunks as he walks in his designer toddler shoes into the house and can’t imagine having to watch him fight.

Once inside, Trunks all but rushes into the kitchen.  He falls once, catching himself on his little hands, and--before she can stop to help--he’s already back on his feet.  He passes into the kitchen and Bulma realizes his target.

She isn’t sure when their son stopped crying when his father looked at him and started seeking him out.  He stands now, tugging on the leg of Vegeta’s sweatpants and babbling incoherently. He almost seems to be recoiling from it and part of Bulma wants to be annoyed but another part of her wants to laugh.

“He isn’t going to hurt you,” she says.

“I’m not worried about him hurting me.”

He says it gruffly and with a slight scoff, but Bulma catches his real meaning.  He’s afraid of hurting Trunks. She wants to bring it up even if today, of all days, is a bad time.  Everyone is here and it’s supposed to be a good, happy day. A signifier that life goes on.

“You should come join the party,” she says instead.

He curls a lip as if the very notion is absurd and her temper flares.  She doesn’t get him these days. Vegeta can come into her bedroom nearly every night but Kami forbid he spend time with other people.  With their son.

“How did he find you?” she asks.

“Ki,” he says in a curt voice. “He can already sense it.”

He sounds almost proud of Trunks, but won’t say it.  She thinks about what Yamcha said. _Does_ she want to be with him?  Bulma thinks she might love him, but that doesn’t really matter at this point.  There’s having feelings for someone and thinking you have a future together and she isn’t sure of that yet.  What if he leaves again? What if he doesn’t come back?

They stare at each other for a moment and Vegeta looks like he’s going to say something, but then he decides against it.  Bulma takes the hint. She reaches down to pick Trunks up.

“Come on, baby, it’s time to blow out the candles.”

\--

When the baby’s born, it’s hard to tell immediately who he looks like.  His hair sticks up in wisps that look like they might eventually resemble Goku’s hair but can a baby inherit a hairstyle?  She looks at his red, smushed little face as he sleeps and wonders if he’ll take after her as Gohan did or look like his father.

Bulma had taken her to the hospital (it only too a few more weeks for Chi-Chi to finally tell everyone she was pregnant), but now they’re home.  She looks at the slumbering newborn and tears well up in her eyes. He’s beautiful, she thinks, and completely perfect.

Gohan came up with his name.  She had asked him in the hospital when he held his brother for the first time and he said, “Goten.”  It’s fitting.

Chi-Chi’s mind goes back to those days Before Cell when she had Goku to herself for nine glorious days.  Even with that awful, blonde hair, he was home and they could be a family while ignoring impending doom. His laidback attitude seemed to emphasize that.  How he was more interested in fishing and having picnics together rather than training and fighting.

How he held her and kissed her and loved her in ways he hadn’t since they were first married.  They had had sex in that meantime, but it wasn’t the slow, gentle lovemaking spread across those days.  It’s like he knew he would die and wanted to lose himself in the sensation. He took his time, at least.  Chi-Chi’s only known him, but she could tell something was different.

It’s then that they conceived this perfect, beautiful child.  The child he would never meet.

She feels tears press against her eyes but her hormones have been screwed up more than usual since giving birth.  She stares down at Goten as he sleeps. It’s the first quiet moment with him. He’s cried from the moment he left her until an hour ago when he fell asleep.  Gohan cried easily, but not as a baby. Mostly he would just stare at them with his big, dark eyes that were already too old. Goten cries.

She strokes her finger down the curve of his silken cheek and she’ll protect him.  She’ll protect him in ways she couldn’t with Gohan. He won’t go to other planets or face impossible odds.  He won’t have to witness what his brother had to. She’ll make sure of that.

“No one will hurt you if I can help it,” she whispers.

A shuffling at the door makes her look up.  Gohan stands there, looking at her directly.  The hair Goku cut so inexpertly is finally growing out and it droops over his face.  Chi-Chi beckons him into the room. Together they look into the crib. Every list she’s written runs out of her head as she looks at his tiny face.  Gohan reaches out a hand and then pulls back as Goten stirs. He looks at her and she feels something unspoken pass between them. She knows he’s thinking the same thing as her.

\--

When Goten turns one, it’s clear by now whose looks he favors.  He’s a mini-Goku in how he looks to how he eats. Sometimes Chi-Chi thinks it might be him reincarnated but that’s unfair to her son _and_ her husband’s memory.

Bulma throws him a party.  She’s reached out more, since Goten was born, and Chi-Chi isn’t sure why.  Maybe it’s because Goku was her best friend.

The others, too.  Krillin has come around less since embarking on his new relationship, but in the direct aftermath, he was always taking Gohan out to fish or to spend time with the others.  Yamcha took him to get his hair cut and to the movies. And here’s Bulma throwing them a party.

Is it pity?  Chi-Chi doesn’t know at this point.  It’s been nearly two years since Cell, but it doesn’t fade.  Maybe it never will. They’ll get on but it won’t disappear.

Maybe it’s all she can ask for.

Everyone seems in better spirits, at least.  She spots Goten with Trunks, the now two-year-old holding him from behind.

“My baby,” he informs anyone who gets too close. “My Goten.”

Goten giggles.  Gohan is near them, and he’s very nearly smiling.  He smiles more, these days, when he’s around his brother.  It’s like the baby is a spot of sunshine to pierce through the clouds of grief.

Too many maybes.  Her mind is full of them.

All she knows is that she’s going to protect both of her boys.

“Thanks for hosting the party,” she says to Bulma when she sees her.

She swings a mostly empty glass of wine around and grins. “Of course.”

It’s weird how much time she’s spent around Goku’s friends without him.  She rarely did before. But now it’s like they’re making themselves a support system for her and Gohan.  And Goten, too. As much as her father did at the very beginning.

Chi-Chi wants to apologize for the tenseness from last year.  From keeping her pregnancy secret for so long. But that’s too hard.  There’s too much murkiness. So much new ground. It’s late February but Chi-Chi feels like it’s the first breath of spring.  Of life after. She doesn’t want to ruin this new normal they’re settling into.

Bulma flashes a smile again and turns to the kids.

“Trunks--you know Goten has to go home soon.”

“No.  He stay here.”

She puts her free hand on her hip and looks at Chi-Chi.

“Yamcha says he’s getting spoiled.  What do you think?”

She doesn’t know what to say.  It’s obvious that Trunks, the only child of the richest family in the world, is spoiled.

“I’m glad our boys get along,” she says diplomatically.

Bulma tosses her head back in laughter.

\--

She almost misses him, but she’s gotten better at spotting him.  Vegeta stands near the edge of the party, away from anyone. She first noticed him at Trunks’s birthday a couple months ago.  Standing there with a puzzled look on his face as if he’s trying to figure something out.

Now here he is again.

Things with them are weird.  Bulma thinks they might be together, but neither of them have quantified it.  He spends nearly every night in her room--the entire night, asleep in her bed--but what does that mean?

“Enjoying yourself?” she asks.

For some reason, she hands him her empty wine glass.  Vegeta stares at it and then back at her. Surprisingly, he reaches out a hand and takes it.  Bulma thinks he might smash it but he places it on the buffet table next to them.

“No,” he says finally, but that answer isn’t surprising.

“You haven’t left,” she says. “To go to space or just.  You haven’t. You’ve stayed. Why?”

He looks over her shoulder and, instinctively, Bulma turns her head.  Trunks has finally relinquished his hold on Goten and the two toddlers are taking turns going for a horse ride on Gohan’s back.  Her heart clenches in a good way. They’ll survive. They always do.

She tears her eyes away and land on her--what?  Not her husband, surely. Boyfriend? Lover? Babydaddy?

“Well?” she prompts.

He makes a sound through his teeth and turns his head away.  Finally, he turns it back towards her.

“I don’t want to leave.”

It’s a simple statement but it holds weight.

“What does that mean?”

She thinks she knows what she wants it to mean at this point.  Bulma wants a goddamn family. She wants to be with this weird fucking alien living in her house.  She wants a family with him and their son. She has an answer to Yamcha’s question from last year (even if he hasn’t given her one on Tien).

“It means.” He pauses.  Folds his arms. “I have no desire to leave.”

Bulma regards him and she thinks, at this moment, this is all she’s going to get.  It’s a start. She puts her hand on his bicep. He jerks his arm but he doesn’t remove her hand.  She looks from him to Chi-Chi who’s trying to spot Goten as he giggles and bounces up and down on his brother’s back.  She looks back.

Yes.

It’s a start.


End file.
